Crisis
by Beth - Geek Chick
Summary: Repost: Annie finds herself in the midst of a medical crisis. Who's there for her to lean on?


**A/N By overwhelming majority, my poll results are in, and everyone wants to see Crisis again. I'll probably be posting others, as well. Thanks!**

Crisis

Chapter 1

"Thanks, Joan, for allowing this last-minute request," Annie says, taking back the now-signed request for leave form.

"Our profession requires the ability to adapt to changes quickly and adeptly, Annie," Joan replies with a level of understanding Annie's hardly ever seen in her boss. "Besides, you've accumulated enough leave time to cover a few weeks, so use it now, take care of yourself."

Annie nods, and folding the paper in half, makes her way back down to her desk. It's nearly time to leave, and she has a few e-mails to read and reply to before she can go home.

After an hour, she walks with Auggie out of the building to her car. She'd been providing his ride home for a few months now, at first out of necessity when his car service had been unable to pick him up for a few days, but now it'd become more of a habit anytime they both left the office at the same time.

Had his mind not been on the latest situation that'd come across his desk just before he left, Auggie might have noted Annie's unusual quietness. But he didn't and instead thought only about what needed to be done the next couple of days.

"Heard you were talking with Joan a little bit ago," he says. "If it's about the situation in Portugal, I read through it before we left. If you want, we can go over the basics now before the briefing tomorrow."

"No," Annie replies softly. "Joan's taken me off Portugal."

Auggie, a bit perplexed, asks, "Why?"

Annie shrugs, "Nothing work-related. I've asked for a couple of days off, and Joan's approved it. I guess the next in line to take my place is Elizabeth Lowe. You'll be handling her."

Had she been talking to anyone else, they might not have taken notice of the tone of her voice, the slight edge to her words. But she was talking to Auggie, who can hear immediately that something was off. She sounded almost forced casual.

"What's wrong?" he asks bluntly.

Annie blinks at the matter-of-fact question. "What do you mean?"

Auggie's mouth drops open at her question-answer to his question. She doesn't think she can just brush him off like that, does she?

A bit more forceful, he says, "I can tell by the tone of your voice that something's wrong, Annie. Tell me."

"Auggie, it's nothing," Annie says with a sigh as she pulls up to the curb outside his apartment building. She slides her car into park and waits for him to exit. When he doesn't make a move to leave, she looks over at him.

He's got that look on his face that she's seen before, and any other time, she'd smile and give in, telling him what's on her mind. They'd grown so close that she knew she could confide in him, and he in her. But now, all Annie wants to do is go home, alone, and wallow.

"I'm not going anywhere, Annie."

The stress and worry of the day had Annie on edge already, and Auggie's stubbornness was the last straw. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused, but I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong," Auggie says, keeping his voice even and unaccusatory.

"It's really none of your business," Annie says, an edge of anger tinging her voice.

Auggie flinches slightly at her words. She's never spoken to him like this before, and his worry increases. "Annie," he says, soft and gentle. "Come on, it's me."

Any other time, Annie would have welcomed Auggie's friendship and sympathetic ear, but her nervousness and emotions had been bubbling at the surface all day, and she finds herself lashing out.

"I'm only telling you because I want to go home and dive into a bucket of Ben&Jerry's," she says. "I have an appointment tomorrow at the Betty Lou Ourisman Breast Health Center at Georgetown University Hospital to get a breast MRI. Then the day after, I'll see a radiologist and my doctor to go over the results."

Auggie takes a few seconds to process the information she's just spat at him. He didn't notice how she said it, only the words themselves. "Breast MRI? You mean –"

"I found a lump, a small one, on my left breast a couple of weeks ago, okay?" she says. "My doctor thinks it's benign, but of course, they can't tell that until they get the MRI results, hence the appointment tomorrow."

She sees Auggie nod at this, but she also notices how a bit of weight lifts off her chest at her words. She realizes that, ever since she'd found the lump two weeks ago, to her initial appointment with her doctor and the talk with Joan earlier that day, she hadn't really said any of that out loud before. It'd been mulling around in her mind all this time, and she tried to compartmentalize and concentrate on other things until her appointment, but in doing so, she hadn't quite processed the implications. She might have breast cancer. She hadn't even told Danielle, as she wanted to wait until her diagnosis was confirmed, positive or negative, before telling anyone.

She runs her finger over the VW insignia on her steering wheel, pondering all of this silently until Auggie's voice cuts through her thoughts.

"Is there anything I can do?"

She looks up and over to him, not wanting to, 'cause she doesn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes. It's why she hadn't told anyone. She hates pity. Especially if there's no need. But Auggie's eyes aren't full of pity, she sees. They're full of compassion and sincerity. A small smile crosses her lips at the sight, and she feels a bit bad that she lashed out at him.

"No, not right now. Don't even know what it is yet, you know?"

Auggie nods, "Yeah. You want to come up, have a drink?"

Annie knows what he's doing, as she feels the protective aura that surrounds him envelop her. It's never failed yet to make her feel safe, and she's suddenly grateful to have him in her life. Reaching over, she takes his hand in hers. His other hand immediately covers her own, sandwiching her fingers and palm in his warmth.

"Thanks, but I just want to go home, get my pajamas on and indulge in some Ben & Jerry's."

"I've got some ice cream," Auggie says with a hint of hope in his voice.

"Auggie."

With a nod of acceptance, Auggie says, "Okay." He lifts her hand and presses a kiss against her knuckles.

It's just a small caress, one he's done a few times in the past, but at the moment, Annie's grateful for it.

"Give me a call when –" Auggie catches himself. He was going to say when her tests are done, but he doesn't want to press himself any further into her obviously deeply personal matter, especially when she only told him because he pushed her. "Just give me a call if you need someone to talk to."

"Thanks," Annie replies. "I will."

Chapter 2

"I'll give you a few minutes to disrobe and lay on the table," says the nameless radiologist or nurse or technician to Annie as he leaves her in the large room, face-to-face with a piece of machinery that looks like it came straight out of "2001: A Space Odyssey."

She's sure the man had a name, but at the moment, she didn't care. Her eyes are full of uncertainty as she stares at the plastic table in front of her. Once she was prone, facedown, on it, it the technician had explained, the table would be pulled into the long, large tube where the images would be taken.

That part didn't sound too bad, she thought. What did give her pause, though, was the table itself. Hard, white and plastic, and at the head of it, two round holes beckoned.

"Whenever you're ready, Miss Walker," came the disembodied voice through the wall. "You can leave your pants on, but please remove the robe and lie facedown on the table, making sure your breasts are through the holes."

Annie nods to show she understands, but she still doesn't move. Her doctor had never explained what would happen during a breast MRI, but never in her wildest dreams – or nightmares – did Annie imagine this.

"Miss Walker?"

The voice, a bit more emphatic this time, breaks her out of her reverie. She nods again and takes a deep breath, pulling the robe off her shoulders. Once she situates herself as the technician instructed, she hears the door creak open as

he enters the room.

"Okay, I'm going to need you to not move at all, okay? It'll take about 20 minutes for the entire cycle."

Annie nods again, her forehead rubbing against the headrest. The rest of her face was through a hole much like one she'd seen at a masseuse. Not that the view was anything inspirational. She only sees the bottom of the table. She jumps a bit as the technician fits something over her head, pulling it down over her ears.

"Sorry about that, these are for music. The machinery's rather loud when it starts up. Any radio station preference?"

"Whatever," Annie says, wanting the technician to get on with it already.

"By your left hand, there's a ball you can squeeze if you're feeling you can't continue. I'll be in the next room, so if you yell, I can't hear you."

Annie's eyes squeeze shut at his words. She'd been in foreign countries, on the run, out of communication with everyone, being shot at, yet that type of danger doesn't compare to the chill that goes through her at the technician's words. She holds the ball connected to the cable in her left hand, ready to squeeze it at the first sign of panic.

She tries telling herself that it was only 20 minutes, that it was necessary for her continued good health, and it wasn't going to hurt. But once the table – and her – start moving her into the large white tube, she feels her heart begin to pound furiously.

She has to stay still, as the technician instructed, so she concentrates on short, cleansing breaths. Rather difficult to do without moving her chest, she thinks. It works for a bit, but once the table stops moving, the noise starts.

A dental drill. No, an axe. No, Annie thinks, a jackhammer. That's exactly what the machine sounds like. A jackhammer breaking up a concrete sidewalk two feet from her head. My god, she thinks, 20 minutes of this?

She closes her eyes and feels the smoothness of the rubber ball in her left hand. Soon the radio starts playing through the headphones over her ears. It doesn't quite block out the sound of the machine, but at least she's able to concentrate on something other than the jackhammer.

A commercial for a local car dealership ends, and the DJ's voice announces the current temperature and clear skies. Then the next song starts, and Annie's mouth drops open as she recognizes it.

Where is the moment we needed the most

She has to stop herself from emitting a sob and holds perfectly still as the piano music filters through the headphones. As Daniel Powter's sweet voice comes through to her, she mouths along with the words.

You're faking a smile with a coffee to go

A genuine smile comes to her at these words, so true of her actions over the past week.

'Cause you had a bad day, You're taking one down, You sing a sad song just to turn it around

The jackhammer continues around her, pounding through the room at different intervals, fast, then slow, then fast again. But Annie no longer hears it as she concentrates on what she believed now would be her favorite song of all time.

Sometimes the system goes on the blink. And the whole thing turns out wrong. You might not make it back. And you know that you could be well oh that strong.

After a few minutes, the song ends and another starts, but Annie doesn't mind at this point. She's successfully taken herself out of the horror of her current situation and been able to relax.

Well, Annie thinks to herself as she exits the building and heads to the parking lot, that's one step done. Now all she has to do is wait for the results and cross her fingers. Her doctor had told her last week what would probably happen, and she runs through the list of possibilities in her mind.

A possible biopsy, then considering how big the lump was – whatever it was – it would probably have to come out. Annie's no stranger to needles and stitches, given her current profession, but there's something comparatively different from being shot or knived by enemies of the state to her own body suddenly attacking her.

She doesn't allow herself to think any further than that. The actual words breast cancer loom in the back of her mind, yet, she tries to tell herself, there's no use in worrying until she receives a firm diagnosis.

She crosses her arms across her chest to ward off the cool breeze blowing across the parking lot. Her arms press her fingers against her sides, and she, without even thinking about it, run her fingers over the lump. Don't know how they could even call it breast cancer, she thinks. The lump under her skin is more on her side, or her chest. But no, she remembers her doctor explaining to her, breast tissue can be found elsewhere in the body. Or, in her case, just to the side of her actual breast.

She shakes her head at the circumstances she's found herself in. Having to take time off for all these tests and appointments is the worst, she thinks. There's only so many sick days allotted, and anything past that would have to come out of her vacation time.

Her self-pity party grinds to a sudden halt as she nears her car. Leaning up against the passenger door – is Auggie. She looks around to see who dropped him off, or how exactly he got there, but there's no one else around.

"Auggie."

It's the only thing she can think to say at the moment, as her worry, tiredness and headache from the MRI pounding render her speechless. But she soon finds that no words are necessary as he turns at the sound of her voice. The same compassion she'd seen on his face yesterday when she'd dropped him off at his apartment echoes in his face, and she finds herself walking faster towards him.

Auggie has just enough time to open his arms as her steps stop, then suddenly speed up as she approches him. Her arms slide around his body easily, and he reciprocates, giving her a strong post to anchor herself against.

Her face presses against his shoulder, so he wasn't sure she was talking at first, but she pulls away a bit and repeats herself.

"How did you get here?"

"Got a ride," he replies with a shrug.

"But the mission, Portugal, aren't you –"

"Shh," Auggie says, rubbing her shoulders. "Given the travel time and time difference, it's not going live until tonight. Joan let me go home for a few hours."

Nodding, Annie steps back from him. "And you want me to give you a ride?"

"No," Auggie says with a laugh. "We've got about three hours, so I thought maybe we could get something to eat, or have coffee or something."

"Auggie, you don't have to –"

"I know I don't."

Annie swallows at his words, as the bitten-down sobs from her time in the MRI machine threaten to bubble up again. Not now, she thinks. She can't cry in front of Auggie. So far, her circumstances don't warrant a full-out bawlfest. She needs to pull herself together and hold fast.

"Well, I was going to go home, but Danielle will probably be there, and she'll wonder why I'm home so early."

"You haven't told her yet."

"No, I haven't told anyone except Joan – well, and you now."

Auggie nods and opens the passenger door. "Well, we can spend a few hours doing whatever, and then you can go home."

Annie doesn't answer, and before he can drop into the passenger seat, she places a hand on his shoulder. A small stretch, and she's able to reach his cheek, where she brushes her lips across his chilled skin. "Thanks, Auggie. I don't think I can do this alone."

Chapter 3

Auggie could tell she was still worried about her tests. Despite his best efforts at anecdote sharing and offers to pick up the check and listen, she's still quieter than normal.

And now, as they sit in a corner booth at a sandwich bistro, wiling away the hours until Auggie had to head back into work, he realizes what he has to do. He remembers back the handful of years when he was recuperating at Walter Reed. Waiting for test after test to come back, not being allowed to do anything else until they did. He'd wanted to process it, talk it through, but he'd had no one.

Annie's not alone. He's here, and pushing aside his plate of a half-eaten sandwich, he lay his forearms on the table.

Annie's grateful for his presence. She knows he knows that, but she feels at this moment, that his time could probably be spent at work or at home, getting rest for his probably late night. So when he gives up all pretense of having a normal late lunch together and turns his head toward her just so, she knows he's expecting her to talk.

Hell, ever since she saw him standing beside her car an hour ago, she knew it. She looks around, noting that the place is relatively empty but for them. The waitress has abandoned them to smoke outside on the sidewalk. Well, she thinks, no time like the present.

After a few more seconds, during which she takes another sip of her iced tea, she begins to talk.

"A few weeks ago, I noticed it. I was applying lotion and felt something on my side, next to my breast. It didn't hurt. I wasn't even sure what I was feeling. But I went to my full-length mirror and saw it. About a pea-shaped lumped right under my skin."

Auggie makes sure he concentrates on her words and resists the urge to pull her into his arms. He's never really seen her so unsure of herself, and he's not sure what to do to help her.

Once the words start coming, Annie finds herself wanting to get the whole thing out. "I tried to ignore it, but then the whole 'what if' started popping up in my mind. I couldn't concentrate on work, so I made an appointment with my doctor. You could imagine my surprise when she told me that she believed it was breast tissue and a lump in the breast tissue." Annie gives out a harsh laugh as she remembers her own surprise and disbelief.

"I had a mammogram, but of course, they always want more, more tests, more probing, more – touching."

Auggie can't stand it anymore and reaches his hand across the table to her, holding her fingers softly as they touch his.

"The MRI today, though, was one of the worst. Have you ever had one?"

Auggie nods his head, "After the explosion, when I lost my sight, they took one of my brain."

"It was loud and uncomfortable, but the worst part was knowing that all of these people I don't know, these strangers, are taking pictures of my breasts and staring at them. Do you want to know how they took the pictures?"

Auggie opens his mouth to say she doesn't have to tell him, but she continues –

"It's a table, Auggie, that I lie facedown on, with two holes at the top. You can probably imagine what goes through the holes," she laughs. "I got to listen to music during it, but nothing could make that table any more inviting."

"Annie."

Raising her eyes from their loosely clasped hands to his face, Annie sees that she's maybe talked too much. "Well, that's all for now," she says with a shrug. "Now I'm just waiting for the call from the radiologist to see what it is."

"And then?"

"Biopsy," she says. "Maybe surgery for removal."

"Annie?" Auggie says, pulling on her fingers to get her attention. "You've never backed down from anything in the year I've known you. What's got you so much more scared about this?"

"I don't know," Annie whispers. "That's a lie. I know. What if it's true, Auggie?"

"That you have breast cancer?"

Annie nods, then chokes out, "Yes."

"Then you'll take it, head on, and fight it with all you've got."

"And what if –" Annie takes a deep breath to get out the one worry that's been in the back of her mind for weeks. "What if I lose my breast?"

"Aren't you getting ahead of yourself?" Auggie asks.

"Maybe, but I can't stop thinking about it, Auggie. And I don't want to not think about it and then find out later. It's my breast, Auggie!" she says a little more harsher than she meant to.

Instead of shrinking back from her flare of anger, Auggie simply nods his head and scoots his chair closer to her. The hand that's clasping hers releases and travels up her arm to her shoulder. A simple tug pulls her to him until her head rests lightly on his chest.

"I'd love to tell you everything's going to be fine, but I won't," he says softly. "I know you're scared and afraid because there's nothing you can do but go for tests and wait for the results. But you can't let this be your life, Annie. Your – breast is not you. It's only a part of you, and even if you lose it, you'll still be you. Better, in fact, because you fought back, you survived, and you're still here."

She's not sure what's better, his words or how safe he makes her feel at the moment, in his loose embrace. But Annie doesn't care at the moment. She takes it all. It's selfish, but she doesn't care about that, either. She needs this.

The door clanging in the background startles her a bit, but Auggie doesn't let go. Even when he hears the waitress walk across the room to their table, he keeps Annie leaning into him.

"Can I get you two anything else?"

"The check, please," Auggie says, a little annoyed that the waitress would interrupt what should obviously have been an intimate moment.

Annie takes a deep breath and leans back, removing her head from his chest. "Guess you should be getting back to the office now, huh?"

A quick check of his watch shows Auggie that she's right. "Yeah, but one word from you, and I'll call in sick."

"No, you go," Annie says. "I should go home. Tell Danielle what's going on."

"You know where I'll be, you know my number. Anytime –"

"I'll call," Annie finishes for him.

"You can do this, Annie."

"You make me feel like I can, Auggie. Thank you."

"You're welcome, but there's no need. I couldn't not be here for you, you know?"

"I know."

Chapter 4

Friday night, Auggie finds himself hanging with guys at Allen's. He hasn't heard from annie since she dropped him off at work the night before, and though he's sure she's fine, and he tries to tell himself that and tries to make believe to the guys that everything's fine, he can't help but wonder and worry.

He's deep into listening to the romance woes of Stu and his girlfriend Amy when he's sure he hears Annie's laughter. His head pops up, and he angles it around, trying to catch it again. Nothing but the normal chatter of the bar inhabitants. He turns back to Stu, who was now complaining about Amy's need to hog the blankets. He interrupts, "Stu, what are you talking about?"

Stu asks, "Weren't you listening? We moved in together."

"Oh, okay. Sorry, Stu," Auggie says. "Something's been on my mind. Of course, I remember you moved in together. This past winter, right?"

"Yeah," Stu sighs, "But it's not as wonderful as I thought it'd be. I mean, she leaves towels on the floor, she hogs the blankets –"

Auggie interrupts him, "But you still love each other, right?"

"Huh?"

Auggie shakes his head at the young man, "You're sitting here, alone, drinking cheap beer on a Friday night with your co-workers instead of in your woman's arms because – she missed the hamper?"

"Well –"

"Go home, Stu. Take Amy in your arms, tell her you love her, and then show her how much. Do that every day for the rest of your life, and I guarantee you a happy ending."

"Umm, okay. Yeah, I think I will".

Auggie nods, and as he's now left alone at the table, his thoughts return to Annie. How angry and broken she's been the past few days. His words to Stu a few moments ago ring in his ears. He and Annie didn't have the same type of relationship as Stu and Amy, but he was closer to her than he'd been to any woman in his life.

He'd certainly never before held someone in his arms and told them everything was going to be okay. He'd never had the need, but then again, he'd never been as close to a woman as he has been to Annie.

His advice to Stu held a bit of truth that maybe he could take, as well. Stu wasn't the only one thinking about someone else while they sat in a bar drinking cheap beer. He pulls out his cell to give Annie a call.

He's about to press her speed dial number when he hears it again. Her laughter. This time, he's not imagining it. She's here. This time, he stands and turns his head around, craning to ascertain where she was. And then he hears his name.

"Auggie!"

Annie hadn't even known Auggie was here, but once his head popped above the seated people around her, she excuses herself from her table of friends – a couple of girls from the office whom she'd ran into on the sidewalk – and walks over to him. The couple of shots and mug of beer she'd already ingested made her slightly unsteady on her stilettos, but once she gains her footing, she makes a beeline for the tall man who'd heard her call and was waiting for her.

Launching herself into his arms, she gives him an overzealous squeeze before letting go. "Auggie, why didn't you give me a call? I didn't know you were going out after work."

"I figured you'd be busy with - you know."

"Pssh," Annie says, waving her hand. "I'm not even thinking about that tonight. Tonight is about forgetting, so what do you say? You up to forgetting yourself with me?"

Auggie's eyes narrow, his breath inhales sharply as her inadvertent double entendre slips by her lips. He doesn't have to answer, though, as Annie pulls him back down to the table, dropping him back in his seat as she takes the one next to him. She must have pulled Stu's chair closer, as he feels her knee bump against his as she settles down.

Reaching across to grab the half-full pitcher of beer and an extra mug, he pours her one and tops his off. "So I take it you're feeling better?"

"Better than what?"

Auggie slides the full mug across to her, but as she places her hand on it, he doesn't let go, instead fixing his gaze – he hopes – directly at her. Just as she was angry and upset and overwhelmed yesterday, she seems to have overcompensated to the other side of the teeter-totter.

"Can I have my beer, please?"

"As soon as you can tell me why you're here getting drunk."

Annie pulls on the mug a bit more forcefully, and thankfully he lets go before the liquid spills out. "Okay, I guess I can tell you, since you already know pretty much everything." Scooting even closer to him, Annie whips her head around to make sure no one's within hearing range. Even so, she places a hand on Auggie's arm and speaks low a few inches from his ear. "My doctor called today. It's not a tumor."

Auggie nods, "So, then, what is it?"

"It's just this thing called a radial scar. I looked it up on the 'net. Just a bundle of tissue, but Auggie, didn't you hear me?" she tries to raise her voice, but is still whispering. "It's not a tumor! I don't have cancer, Auggie!"

That he understands, she sees, as he turns to look at her more fully, eyes widening and mouth dropping open. She has to stifle a giggle at the look on his face. The smile – the Auggie smile as she's come to call it – breaks across his face, and he extricates his arm from her grasp and pulls her toward him.

Auggie's not sure what all she said – his medical knowledge is limited, after all – but her last words, and her drastic change of demeanor from yesterday were enough to tell him that she's okay. She's going to be okay. His Annie is healthy.

He could think of nothing else to do at that moment but hug her. It rivals the hug she gave him a few minutes before, but this time, they're both participating. Both of them are nearly pulled out of their seats by the other, as arms pull, heads tuck into necks, and laughs mix with a sob or two echoes into each others' ears.

He pulls away enough to rest his forehead on hers. "God, I'm so glad for you."

"Yep, I'm glad for me, too."

"You know what this occasion calls for?" he says.

"More alcohol?"

Auggie chuckles, "Nope, ice cream."

Annie pulls back a little. "What?"

"Two days ago, after you dropped me off at work, what'd you do?" he asks with a smile.

Annie drops her head a bit, "Went home and ate a quart of Chunky Monkey."

"Now, do you really want to equate Ben & Jerry's with feeling bad?"

"No, I guess not."

"Exactly," Auggie says, pulling back from her. He picks up his mug and drains it. Annie follows suit. "I take it you didn't drive here?"

"Cab."

He stands and cocks his elbow out to her. "Then let's get another one and go celebrate."

A half an hour later, Annie's standing barefoot in Auggie's kitchen, the cold air from his refrigerator freezer blowing over her face. "Auggie, you did promise me ice cream, and I don't see anything resembling Ben & Jerry's in here."

Returning from his bedroom where he exchanged the button-downed shirt and vest for a t-shirt, Auggie reached over her shoulder and easily found the smooth, cold container. "I never said I had Ben & Jerry's."

Annie watches as he sits the container on the counter and removes the lid. "Ooh, is that what I think it is?"

Auggie picks the container up and holds it under his nose, sniffing with appreciation. "Mint chocolate chip, ambrosia from the gods."

"Ooh, goody!" Annie says, clapping her hands. "You know, I don't think I've ever had ice cream when I'm drunk. Do you think it'll change the taste of it?"

"Only one way to find out," Auggie says with a shrug, and retrieving a spoon from a drawer, he scoops out some. "Open up."

Annie's eyes widen as she realizes he's going to feed her. Had she been just a little bit more sober or not so giddy with excitement about her good news, she'd laugh and insist on separate spoons and bowls, but she's feeling a little reckless now and dutifully opens her mouth.

He hears her moan with appreciation, and something breaks within him. Something that wants to hear that sound again, preferably in his bed. He closes his eyes as the image turns into a sensation that travels from his brain down through his body.

He feels her hand slide over his as she pulls the spoon from his hand.

"Open up."

He complies, and the cool smoothness of the mint chocolate chip ice cream slides between his lips. "Mm, I do believe it tastes better mixed with beer."

Annie giggles before saying, "If you've got some beer here, we could make some adult root beer floats."

"Nope, no beer, but I would like to have another drink. Here, take the ice cream and meet me on the couch."

Picking up the container and spoon, Annie settles herself on the couch, tucking her legs under her. She'd worn jeans and a t-shirt to the bar, and had kicked off her shoes when she entered Auggie's apartment. Watching as he bent over searching for something under the counter, she wonders what he's doing. Then he straightens up, a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses between his fingers and a smile on his face.

Auggie walks over to the couch and sits down, placing the bottle and glasses on the table before him. As he pours out the two drinks, he says, "I'd like to make a toast."

"Hear, hear," Annie says, taking the proferred drink from his fingers and downing it in one.

"Umm, you haven't heard the toast yet," Auggie laughs.

"Oh, right," Annie says, grabbing up the bottle and refilling her glass. "Go ahead."

"To Annie Walker, one of the bravest and kindest people I've ever met."

"Auggie," Annie whispers, taken aback by his words.

"Now you can drink."

She does so, and they both place their glasses back on the table before sitting back on the couch. An easy silence passes between them, and Annie settles into it, her head sliding to her right to find Auggie's shoulder. The weight and worry of the past few weeks followed by the jubilation and happiness today has left her exhausted, and though the alcohol-imbibing was a way to celebrate, it seems only to complete her tired state.

She shakes her head slightly, laughing to herself at how much emotional damage can be caused by a pea-shaped lump of tissue.

Auggie feels her shoulders shake beside him. "What's so funny?"

"Just thinking about everything that's happened over the past few weeks."

"Mm, you've had quite a time, haven't you?"

"You could say that again," she agrees. Then, lifting her head off his shoulder, she glances up at him. "Would you like to feel it? The lump?"

Auggie's mouth falls open slightly at her request. Annie sees the look on his face and adds, "Remember, it's not directly on my breast, just off to the side. I just thought you'd like to see how small it is, as compared to how much trouble it's caused."

Knowing he shouldn't, that he's once again pushing a bit to far into her personal life, he nods. He feels her shift her weight off of his shoulder, and her hand picks his off of his thigh.

Annie guides his sensitive fingertips to her side, where the lump is located. "Feel that? That, Auggie, is the cause of our being drunk on beer, tequila and ice cream right now."

Auggie allows his fingers to run over the cloth-covered lump a couple of times before he pulls back. He thinks, it's also been the cause of something else, but given both of their imbibed states, he thinks taking their closeness and affection any further right now would be a mistake.

"So what happens now?" he asks, settling back into the cushions.

"Well, I'd love for them to just leave it, but my doctor – and the radiologist – both think it's best if I get it removed. So, a biopsy, outpatient surgery and a week to heal are in my immediate future."

Auggie nods and lets out a deep breath. "I'm glad everything's worked out for you, Annie."

"Me, too," Annie agrees, resuming her previous position with her head on his shoulder. After a couple of seconds, his arm shifts to wrap around her, and she scoots a bit closer, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes.

Chapter 5

Annie slides from sleeping to wakefulness slowly, as her head is pounding just a little bit harder than is normal after a night of beer drinking. As she moves and stretches, more details from the previous night come to light. One being she wasn't at home in bed, but on Auggie's couch, covered by a blanket. After having some ice cream and tequila shots, she remembers falling asleep on his shoulder.

Opening her eyes a bit more, she notices that she's alone on the couch, and the windows are blazing with bright morning light. The silence in the apartment shows her that she's alone in being awake, and the pressure in her lower abdomen reminds her that she drank quite a bit of liquid last night, and she needs to use the bathroom.

Tiptoeing in her bare feet across the room, she lets herself into his immaculate and utilitarian bathroom. Once her business is done, she crosses over into his bedroom to check if he's still sleeping to see his bed empty. The sheets are rumpled, though, so he did sleep there. A clink from the kitchen signifies his presence.

"Good morning," Annie says, standing by the counter.

"Mm, it will be once the Tylenol and coffee kick in," Auggie says with a rueful smile. "Remind me if we ever have the urge to try it again that ice cream and tequila definitely do not mix."

"Noted," Annie says with a laugh. He hands her a steaming mug, and she accepts it gratefully.

After a minute, during which they both sip at their hangover cures in silence, Auggie asks, "So, what have you got planned for today?"

"I promised Danielle I'd spend the day with her. She didn't take it too well that I didn't tell her about my lump and the doctor's visits right away."

Auggie nods his understanding, but he's a bit disappointed that she has to leave. Though he feels this overwhelming urge to pull her to him and see if she'd accept a kiss from him, he refrains.

Annie sees the slight disappointment cross his face and shakes her head. This won't do at all, she thinks, setting her coffee mug on the counter. She reaches out and pulls his own from his fingers and sits it beside her own.

"Annie, what –"

"Shh," Annie says, taking a step closer until they're nearly toe-to-toe. She raises her hands and cups his jaw. "I know you said before that I didn't have to keep thanking you, but please, just let me, okay?"

He nods, and she continues, "You have been so wonderful to me over the past three days, that I don't even know how to properly express my thanks."

"I'm your friend, Annie. That's what friends do."

"Really?" she asks. "Then tell me, who else was there for me after my MRI? Who else could tell something was wrong and refused to get out of my car until I told him?"

Auggie smiles at the memory, but continues to let her talk, enjoying her closeness and the feel of her hands on his face.

"I was moping around for days, Auggie. No one else noticed. No one but you. You kept me company, made me talk about it, held me when it got to be too much, and last night – well, I don't remember doing it, so I guess you took off my shoes and laid me down with a blanket and pillow."

As the words come flowing out of her, Annie has a moment of self-realization that she almost laughs aloud at. She just wants to express her appreciation, but somehow, she's done a bit more. Her slight brush with mortality – yes, she was being that melodramatic – has made her think harder than she ever has these past few weeks. At first, she was just thinking about her life and what she had done and what she could do. Then, after she saw Auggie standing beside her car after that awful MRI test, she started thinking about who she'd like to share that future with.

"Now that everything's over – well, the worrying part, at least – I've decided not to let life pass me by anymore. And I –"

All this time, he's standing there, in a t-shirt and loose black pants, his attention solely on her, but not touching her in the least. The only contact they have is her hands on his face, and she reluctantly lets go.

Auggie feels like a puppet in front of her, knowing he couldn't walk away now if he wants to. He lets her talk, hoping against hope that her words mean what he thinks they mean, and she's affected by their nearness as much as he is. He'd thought to himself last night as he was slipping her shoes off her that there was no coming back from this. He cares for Annie more than he's ever cared for anyone else in his life. But he's also scared. Scared of his feelings and, if he pushes too far with her, that she'd push him away. He can't even fathom how much that would hurt him.

Then, as her hands slide off his cheeks, he lets out a breath at the loss – mourning its loss, yet at the same time, grateful for it. But she doesn't step away. If anything, he thinks she's moving closer to him, as he feels her hands on his wrists, lifting them up from where they hung at his sides.

She places them at her hips, and he chuckles a bit, "Are we going to dance?"

The laughter leaves his throat as her hands reach back up to his face, gliding past his jaw to the back of his head, and she's pulling him forward. The first touch of her lips on his startles him. Not that she's kissing him, but the unexpected taste and texture of her lips. He's kissed women in the past, he won't deny it, but for a split second, he almost feels like rearing back, asking her what sort of creature she was. But she's still pressing those lips against him, and rising on tiptoe as their bodies slightly brush.

The softness of her body, from lips to hands to chest as it presses against the hardness of his own pushes Auggie past the barrier he'd put up between them, and he begins to reciprocate. Not as forceful as his primitive brain is begging him to, but as gently as his mind and heart knows she needs right now. His fingers

splay across her hips, moving up to her waist, dragging her top with them. He lets her guide and lead the kissing.

The first startling brush of her lips against his aside, he feels he now craves it and wants more. With every ounce of restraint he possesses, Auggie allows himself to kiss her back. He tries to tell himself that he's only doing it to show he's interested, too, to give her as much as she's giving back, and to make sure she doesn't pull back.

Annie's heart begins to thud against her chest as he begins to respond. She knew she was taking a chance by kissing him, but she didn't want to wait any longer. Had her mind not been so filled with her own health scare, she'd probably had noticed his interest more, but she hadn't. But she also knows that, however horrific it seems, her health crisis had been the one thing that had brought them closer.

The only good thing, she thinks as his hands, inch by agonizing inch, move further around her waist to her back. Her tee has gotten caught up in his fingers and palm, and she inhales deeply as a small expanse of her skin is brushed. The inhale causes her lips to part slightly, and along with the air she gets Auggie as the full taste of him comes through. All of her senses on full

drive now – save her sight, as her eyes are closed – as even her ears pick up the mixed barely audible groans of both of them.

Though she longs to stay right there for the rest of her life, Annie's toes and calves are cramping from having to reach up to him. She slowly lowers herself down, their kiss breaking.

Auggie wants to follow her mouth down as he feels her pull away from him, but her hands are no longer pulling at his neck, and he straightens up. "What's wrong?"

"You're too tall," Annie whispers in a laugh. "Maybe I should have put my stilettos back on."

Auggie smiles at her joke, and lets his hands full of the back of her shirt have one final caress – catching a bit of skin, as well – before he pulls back, too. She says nothing, and they stand inches apart, his hands resting lightly at her waist, and her palms now against his biceps.

"Say something," Annie whispers.

"If I do, then I'll wake up from this dream," Auggie confesses.

"Same here."

"Think we should pinch each other to make sure?" he teases, then jumps a bit as her nails sink into the back of his arms. "I was joking. No need for violence."

Giggling, Annie risks a look up at his face. If there's one thing she's learned from him, it's that he rarely guards himself when he's with her. She can tell with one look into his chocolate brown eyes what he was thinking. She expects the same compassion and sincerity and gets both, but mixed in with a few other emotions. She gasps slightly when she recognizes her own feelings mirrored in the sightless depths.

"I wish I didn't have to go," she says, her voice thickening with emotion.

"I know, I don't want to let you go, either."

"Are you busy tonight? I can come back."

Auggie's heart thumps hard once as, with that one sentence, his future with Annie is secured. "Annie, you can come back anytime you want. I –" he takes a deep breath to control himself. "I –"

Annie can see the emotions racing across his face and quickly raises a finger to his lips to silence him. "Shh, we'll talk more later, okay?" He nods under her finger. She stretches up again to replace her finger with her lips for a brief second then pulls away. Her own emotions are threatening to overtake her, and she doesn't want them to all come rushing out between them. Especially not now, when this morning was the culmination of a week's worth of upset and crying and consoling. No, what was occurring between her and Auggie deserves it own time, and she's willing to wait.

THE END


End file.
